It was Christmas Eve. My close childhood friend, her older sister, and a few other kids ditched our families to hang out in the older sister's car behind the neighborhood bowling alley. We were just talking about the bullshit holiday, bullshit family gatherings, how much we hated winter, how much we hated our families, smoking cigarettes, young teenage misery. Which is funny to me now. Back then we really didn't have a care in the world. We just wanted what all kids want, more.
The music playing in the car that late holiday afternoon --Purple Rain. Prince. "We got the movie at home." My childhood friend says. "After the relatives leave lets go watch it."
And that's how we spent that Christmas Eve, in my friend's basement watching Purple Rain. I hadn't seen it. It was the first time I saw a guy grope a girl. Blame it on the rain. Purple ra... yeah you get it.
We hammered out a lot of talk that night. A lot of talk.
I've been thinking about it all day. Things we talked about. Gonna dig out the Purple Rain DVD and watch it tonight.
RIP Prince. My MN brother from another mother.
My original blog today was about hockey. In particular the Internet/NHL nonsense over Chicago Blackhawk, Andrew Shaw, getting pissy with a ref during playoff game, taunting the ref through penalty box plexiglass, "Fuck you, faggot" and how sports media covered and overblown-hyped "the incident" which was no incident at all.
It's sports. It's playoffs. It's hockey.
Hockey, is not a gentleman's sport. That would be tennis, golf, and polo. Actually, I think polo is the sport of kings, but you get what I'm saying? Hockey is not a gentlemen's sport. They're hockey players. Not rock stars. Hockey players. European, American, Canadian, regular guys who married the first kind sweet girl to have sex with them even after seeing these guys sitting on their parents sofa wearing Rush tee-shirts and a horribly cut mullet.
They're hockey players!! It's playoffs. They have more adrenaline than I do after stubbing my big toe in the dark at 2am going to the bathroom to pee. And trust me, I say a lot worse than "faggot" after stubbing my toe.
Making Shaw, take sensitivity training, for calling a hockey ref a fag, is like making me take sensitivity training and I didn't call anyone a faggot (caught on camera). Still, I had to take sensitivity training too. Passed it. Took three tries but I passed it.
There isn't enough time in the universe for the amount of chronology I've offensively uttered, declared, and/or screamed at the top of my lungs purposely insulting god, sons, and mothers, everywhere.
Sticks and stones. Right??
What happened to sticks and stones? Are we not applying "Words will never hurt me" in our young life lessons anymore?
It's not like Shaw walked into a gay bar and yelled "faggot!" He would have gotten his ass kicked.
There's a HUGE difference between Paula Deen, and her fat, fat mouth (verbally) insulting black people with her idiotic "slave wedding" or whatever the fuck that stupidity was, and George Zimmerman, being acquitted for second degree murder of a young black kid, Trayvon Martin. Curious, how come #blacklivesdidnotyetmatter then?
Relax Internet. Shaw didn't shoot anyone.
Pretty soon hockey will be so pussified there won't be need for all that padding and protective gear.
P.s. (And you know who YOU are)
I have a big pile of 'fuck you' sitting over here with your name on it. Come get it. :)
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